AS
A SLAVE on the Elzy Plantation in Leesburg, Virginia, John W. Jones often thought
about seeking a better life for himself up North. Worried that his master
would soon die and he would be sold into an even worse situation, Jones acted
on his dreams and escaped one late evening in June 1844. He headed for
Maryland and into Pennsylvania, hiding in barns and the cover of darkness.
Wandering through the countryside of upper Pennsylvania, the fugitive crossed
over to southern New York state, into the Chemung Valley. There, he settled
in Elmira, a progressive town known for its antislavery sentiment. In Elmira,
Jones held various jobs while gaining an education at a local school, before
finally achieving a position as an assistant sexton. As civil war approached,
the fortunes of John Jones, as well as other Elmirans, would continue to grow.(1)

In
1860 Elmira was a community of approximately 8,700. The Civil War greatly
augmented its growth, not only in population, but also in its economic
development. Elmira's industries expanded to embrace the city's function as a
main military rendezvous point in New York, consisting of four training
bases. Tanneries sold leather goods to the military, and woolen mills
fabricated blue uniforms. Hardware stores supplied utensils, cups, and
plates, while food contractors made sure they were put to use.(2) "Some
of the farmers of the vicinity," wrote an observer, "were made
comfortably well-to-do by the sale of their produce to the camps."(3)
Land and housing leases were negotiated for training grounds, quarters,
hospitals, and any other spaces required to fit the soldiers. Selling horses
to the Cavalry Bureau became an important function of the post and a
lucrative trade for area dealers; corral stables were built to accommodate
twelve hundred animals. Lumber mills provided manufactured wood for the various
facilities and workers were hired to undertake their construction.(4)

Wartime
growth changed Elmira's country town atmosphere, which was made official on
April 7, 1864, when it was incorporated into a city with four wards. But the
new city's first few months proved to be a pivotal time; activity within its
limits began to diminish. Two training camps shut down by early 1864, and a
third was nearly vacated. Although 20,796 soldiers were gathered, trained,
and dispatched from the Elmira Rendezvous throughout the war, about half that
number were processed during the war's first year. When the soldiers were
gone, so was much of the business required for their care.(5) "Barracks
No. 1 are quite deserted again" exemplified the "here and gone"
attitude stressed by newspapers as men left for the front.(6) No one
anticipated the financial benefits of establishing a military prison in
Elmira, nor that it would strengthen the economy.

Elmira
underwent a major transformation near the middle of 1864; many men rendezvousing
in Elmira would not be wearing Union blue, but Confederate gray. Within
months, inmates and prison keepers nearly doubled Elmira's population of some
thirteen thousand citizens. After both the prison and guard camps were
established in Elmira's first ward, where 1,440 citizens had been living, its
population grew almost exponentially.(7)

The
old training camp on the Chemung River, designated as Barracks No. 3, was
remodeled into a stockade city, an appendage of the community where services
were demanded in full. In July, when the Southerners began to arrive, readers
of local papers were not surprised to find

Our mechanics and laboring men
are all employed. Not an idle one do we know who is willing to work--During
no period have more new buildings been planned and put in the process of
construction. The presence of a military rendezvous has also necessitated a
large and additional amount of building around the Barracks which have not
reached completion, not to speak of the new improvements being perfected as
fast as required. The high price of labor and material so far seems to
influence only in a degree all kinds of building operations.(8)

In
August 1864, a month after the prison opened, the Elmira Daily Advertiser
commented on the economic revival: "The presence of so large a number of
military here causes our town to put on the appearance of old times. There
will probably be a constant guarding force of over two thousand men here,
until the rebel prisoners are disposed of." Furthermore, the paper continued,
"The number of officers will be larger than that quartered here last
winter. So the prospect of a gay, lively and spirited season for amusements
and entertainments seems quite assured for the coming fall and perhaps
winter."(9) Two days later, the local press commented "The true
policy for the sure growth of our city seems at last fully inaugurated,
namely--the increase of all kinds of manufacturing business, for which there
will be a growing demand with the advancing years." The paper could only
hope "These elements of true prosperity, besides, will last and sustain
the growth and increase of the town, when all the ephemeral advantages of a
military rendezvous shall have been done away by the subjection of the
rebellion and the close of the war.(10)

In
the middle of October, the Advertiser mentioned, "Our streets are still
thronged with the military, stranger, and citizens. The crowd, if anything,
increases, the stir and business everywhere manifested is equal to a city
quadruple of our size." "So, with the attractions of all sorts
about us and the camps and barracks," the paper concluded, "there
seems to be a good prospect of a large inflow of strangers and military
personages for some time to come."(11)

Newspaper
correspondents sent to Elmira detailed not only Johnny Reb's life in
captivity, but the prison's impact elsewhere. On August 17, an enlightening
article appeared in the New York Evening Post.

The enterprising town of
Elmira is one of the government depots for prisoners of war, and the camp now
contains between seven and eight thousand rebels .... More than two thousand,
as many as the camp will accommodate. In a few days from this time the
rebels, with their guards, will about equal in number the men, women and
children who composed the population previous to the establishment of the
rebel depot. Suppose three-quarters of a million rebel prisoners encamped in
Westchester county, and you will appreciate the situation here.

The
metropolitan correspondent did not know specifically who would provide for
them all, only the prison was "about a mile and a half from the business
centre of Elmira" and the "rich farming region furnishes the needed
supplies."(12)

On
October 7, a New York Express reporter wrote:

Elmira is a live town,--a new
city if you please. Perhaps it abounds in incidents of real interest beyond
any other locality outside of your own great city .... It is in short, the
most important military post in the Empire state .... The war has given a
great impetus to Elmira. Speculation, too, has had and is still having its
widest range. Under this influence it has swelled into the proportion of a
city of 16,000 inhabitants. Besides this, it has a floating population of
from 10,000 to 12,000 .... We have to some extent all the characteristics of
your great city. Gamblers, pickpockets, fast men and lewd women--the latter
are in legion.

His
most telling comment--It is here that army contractors fatten and get rich in
a day while thousands are wondering where all the money comes from."(13)

Not
all the advantages of the military in Elmira satisfied everyone. Some
carpenters hired by the Quartermaster's Department were unhappy because they
were being paid with credit vouchers rather than cash. In fact, most of the
Department's workers were compensated by vouchers, which could be cashed at
local banks, but with a tax. Not being paid in hard money and being taxed on
top of it was bad, but the workers' immediate supervisor made the situation
worse. At the end of October, a spokesman for the carpenters, Eli Monell,
wrote the Secretary of War that an agreement with local banks would adjust
their tax rate at two percent. However, someone had "interfered"
with this arrangement. Asst. Q.M.S.P. Suydam, they complained, told banks
"not to cash them for less than five percent."(14) In early
November Q.M. Gen. Montgomery Meigs informed Stanton that the Elmira
carpenters "are liable to and do at times work more than the number of
working days in a month, and it is nothing more than fair that they should
contribute their legal share towards the support of the Government."(15)
The presidents of the Chemung Canal Bank and the First and Second National
Banks of Elmira also verified that their tax rates on vouchers had
"always" been around five percent.(16)

Meanwhile,
Elmira Prison was gradually taking a fair portion of monies out of its own
fund. Besides quartermaster and commissary expenditures, the prison fund had
been supplying the stockade with extra money and beginning to pry open the
hands of the tight-fisted commissary general of prisons, William Hoffman.
Hoffman was able to keep spending at a minimum in the camp's early months,
but higher costs occurred when more facilities were required to care for
additional prisoners. In September, $ 14,771.21 was spent on the prison, and
in October, $13,026.03. Even when expenses declined at the end of 1864,
records from the Commissary General's office indicate as much as $37,566.20
was already exhausted on the Elmira Prison. It was only the start of the
immense amount of spending that continued into the next year.(17)

In
January, 1865, many of the military contracts had to be extended or
rewritten. Commissary Nicholas J. Sappington had hoped to solve his problem
of being able to procure better grades of meat for prisoners by stipulating
in the new fresh beef contract for larger stock. Samuel Hall won the six
month contract, which began on January 11 and was paid nearly double than
that of the prior contractor, 13 7/8 cents per pound, because it was agreed
"Cattle Slaughtered for Beef to be delivered under this contract shall
weigh Five hundred pounds net after being trimed."(18) It was a promise
Hall could not keep. He scoured the countryside for animals by the agreed
terms, but they were too scarce. The butcher made an appeal to Captain
Sappington, who met with the commander of the Elmira Depot, Col. Benjamin F.
Tracy. Tracy's legal background told him he had no authority to change a
preexisting contract, so the depot commander wrote the commissary general of
Subsistence. "It is represented by Mr. Hall that it is very difficult to
get cattle of that size in the country, while young steers & heifers,
weighing about 400 to 500 lbs. in good flesh, & much better beef and less
bones, than larger animals can be procured. They ask that lighter beef be
accepted."(19) Commissary Eaton also received an endorsement from Gen.
A. S. Diven, commander of the District of Western New York, who agreed
"the rejection of beef because of the weight injudicious. It should be
inspected in reference to the quality, rather than the weight, small cattle
if in good condition make good beef, much better than larger, boney
cattle."(20) Military authorities had but little choice to modify the
contract under Hall's terms, although his pay rate remained the same.

Hall's
fresh beef would require salt, so Commissary Sappington issued another
contract for its supply in January. Virgil Read provided 1000 bushels, 60
pounds to the bushel at 68 cents per pound, bringing him a modest $680.(21)
At the end of the month, Sappington notified his superiors in Washington they
were short on flour because "the number of troops & Prisoners of War
at the post rendering the supply necessary, and believing the flour can be
obtained here as cheap a rate of the Government as at any other
point."(22) Sappington spoke in relative terms--not much came cheap for
his department, particularly flour.

Elmira
flourmills were extremely busy in 1865. Besides the amount needed for meals,
Commissary Sappington was required, as he put it, to keep in excess
"about 50,000 pounds of hard bread on hand while the Prisoners were held
here in case of any accident to the bake ovens."(23) This supply, along
with regular demands, had large repercussions with local flour distributors. On
February 2, Jeremiah Dwight agreed to furnish the Elmira commissary
department with 1,600 barrels of flour, evenly divided between two types. He
received $10.20 per barrel for 800 barrels of wheat flour and $9.70 for 800
barrels for his spring wheat flour, a contract worth $15,920. On the same
day, Sappington entered an agreement with George Worrel for 400 barrels of
flour at $9.60 per barrel. At the beginning of March, J. H. Loring and
Company earned their portion of commissary disbursements. The two proprietors
of this local mill, James H. Loring and Edward W. Hersey, were obligated for
1,600 barrels of flour at $9.64 per barrel, adding up to a $15,424
contract.(24) At the end of April, Thomas C. Platt from nearby Tioga County
was awarded a flour contract for 1,600 barrels of flour at $7.122. Platt grew
up in Owego with Colonel Tracy and had personal leverage other bidders could
not compete against. As both men emerged in politics after the war, Platt
would repay his friend with political favors.(25)

Individuals
providing the prison pen with food never endeared themselves to captives.
More than one Southerner believed contractors to be interested only in
growing rich at their expense. Alabaman J. L. Williams stated, "I think
the Government made an honest effort to care for us, but sometimes the
Government and sub-contractors were not honest."(26) Marcus Toney
"thought for awhile that the government was retaliating on us on account
of Andersonville, but afterwards believed it was done by the army contractors."(27)
A South Carolinian agreed, "my honest opinion is that they could have
treated us much better without much effort. The government may have made the
effort, but the agents of the government failed most miserably."(28)
Perhaps failing in quality, food contractors did not fail in quantity. The
amount of meat and bread doled out to inmates, the two primary staples in
their diet, were enormous. Sappington provided Elmira prisoners with an
estimated 13,000 barrels of flour and 2,396,165 pounds of beef.(29)

The
quartermaster's department continued to keep hundreds of individuals in and
around Elmira working in 1865. Supplying the prison kept many teamsters
working for forty-five dollars a month, a five dollar raise.(30) Q.M. John J.
Elwell complained regularly to Washington that he lacked proper land
transportation for ten thousand prisoners and three thousand guards, and
although admitting the costs were "excessive" he had no other
choice but to rent equipment.(31) Private parties loaned wagons out at $2.75
a day, and horses at $5 a team to transport supplies. J. S. Baldwin earned
$365.50 in one month for that purpose, while other Elmirans also found
renting equipment extremely profitable. Building or repairing facilities
brought carpenters frequently to the prison. They were also given an increase
in pay after the new year, up to three dollars per day. General laborers
might earn $45 a month, while civilian clerks could make as much as $125.
Surveyors were paid $50 a month and wood inspectors $100.(32) On the bottom of
Elwell's payroll were nine persons hired as "dirt cart drivers" for
removing waste from the prison yard and compensated $20 a month. Local
blacksmiths were required for working at the depot, and when Cook and
Covell's hardware store won the contract for furnishing the dirt carts, their
blacksmith, Miles Trout, built them.(33) With all the contracts made in
Elmira, small wonder that lawyers were required "in giving legal advice
in regard to leases, contracts and claims against the government." James
Dunn charged $75 a month for his counseling.(34)

The
operational demands of the prison and guard camps kept local businesses
active. Besides providing hardware, Cook and Covell supplied kerosene oil to
keep the prison camp illuminated, while grosses of lamp wicks and matches
were needed for lighting and burning.(35) The masonry firm of Russell and
French sold hundreds of dollars worth of lime, brick, and sand, used for
building and disinfecting privies.(36) Record keeping and sending
correspondence required an immense amount of stationary and supplies. F. A.
Devoe sand Son printed out sutler orders for the prison, while Presnick and
Dudley and the Hall Brothers furnished paper, ledgers, report and
prescription books, pens, pencils, erasers, rulers, scissors, rubber bands,
envelopes, ink, and sealing wax. George D. Bridgeman and Fairman and Caldwell
bound information into voluminous books.(37) Straw and hay were bought in
bulk and used by the hospital department for bedding.(38) Druggists,
particularly Ingraham and Robinson, stocked the hospital with medicinal
supplies.(39)

Perhaps
the greatest opportunity for anyone employed by prison authorities was that
of John Jones, the former slave from Virginia. Jones had advanced to the
position of sexton at Woodlawn Cemetery by the time the prison opened in July
1864. At the end of the month, Commissary General Hoffman approved three
hundred dollars for leasing a half-acre of ground at the local cemetery for
dead Confederates, and the employment of a person to bury them for $40 a
month. Jones held his modest job at a fortuitous time since he soon found
that the morbid business of death was a booming industry while the prison
existed. To help the sexton, Hoffman allowed the purchase of a wagon so it
could be modified into a hearse.(40) "The first day that I was called in
my capacity of sexton to bury a prisoner who had died," wrote Jones,
"I thought nothing of it." "Directly there were more dead. One
day I had seven to bury. After that they began to die very fast."(41) By
1865, burials were becoming more expensive as Jones began running out of room
to bury prisoners. On January 1, 1865, Elmira's mayor, Steven Arnot, leased
out an additional half-acre of land at Woodlawn, costing the government $600
for Confederate burial grounds. Also, undoubtedly to the chagrin of Hoffman,
Jones was not being paid monthly, but at an individual rate set at $2.50 per
burial.(42)

In
the meantime, the customized hearse had been pulling up to the deadhouse for
its daily collection, driven by John Donohoe for $60 a month. Inmates
employed at the prison camp morgue prepared their own for burial,
constructing pine coffins as fast as they could while corpses piled in the
comers.(43) Clothing and personal items of the deceased were to be left
alone, while each cadaver was tagged for identification, giving a name,
company, regiment, and date of death. These records were transcribed on the
coffin lid, then the papers bottled and put in the coffin before it was
nailed shut. The coffins were loaded six at a time onto the dead wagon for
removal to Woodlawn, a few miles north of the prison.(44) This
"admirable system" provoked one Confederate to sarcastically state
that at Elmira "the care of the dead was better than that bestowed on
the living."(45)

At
Woodlawn, trenches were opened under the direction of Sexton Jones, most
lying north to south. A crew of ten to twelve prisoners on grave yard detail
helped with the digging. The largest number Jones buried in a single day was
forty-three; in his busiest month, March 1865, he earned $1,237.50.(46) He
meticulously logged the records on each coffin lid to a large ledger
detailing the position of every Confederate buried at Woodlawn. He made sure
wooden headboards had the correct information written on them in white lead
paint, and then placed over the appropriate plot. Nine laborers were on the
quartermaster's payroll, paid $45 per month, to set the headboards, which
were built by local carpenter William F. Naefe, over the graves.(47)

Eventually
2,973 Confederates were laid to rest at Woodlawn Cemetery.(48) It would have
cost just $480 if the Sexton were paid monthly. Instead, he earned $7,432.50
from prisoner burials. The former slave had adapted quite well in the
capitalistic North. Long after the ending of hostilities, a personal friend
remembered: "The aggregate of these fees was the basis of the
comfortable fortune he amassed in the years after the war. He [Jones] was
rated as the wealthiest colored man in this part of the State."(49)

If
space was needed to lay Confederates to rest, additional room was required to
lay Union soldiers to sleep. Officers in Elmira were given daily stipends for
housing when other quarters were not arranged. The Brainard Hotel was depot
headquarters and furnished rooms for camp administrators. Prison Cmandant
Major Henry V. Colt, Colonel Tracy and Captain Suydam all lived at the
Brainard. Other hotels in the city housed military guests. But it was private
homes that were especially hospitable to military personnel, opening their
doors in return for rent checks.(50) Maj. S. W. Beall rented three rooms from
Theodore Edwards for $32 a month. Capt. R. R. R. Dumars paid only $24 for his
three rooms from a Mr. Baker. The second chief surgeon of the prison, Anthony
Stocker, rented four rooms from Mrs. W. B. Dewitt for $32 a month, while Adj.
C. C. Barton leased three rooms from her for $24. Many more officers
connected with the prison and guard camps lived in private homes and paid
their owners similar rates. Clerks and orderlies were given quarters at the
government's expense. Even Mayor Arnot got in on the action, renting quarters
for the provost guard at $20 a month. Office space was just as prime, as
hundreds of dollars were spent in renting out to the adjutants,
quartermaster, and commissary departments. Still, it was hard to beat the
monopoly the Foster family had on their block, combining for $2,215 in
renting space for Southerners at Elmira Prison and guards at Camp
Chemung.(51)

Leases
and rents, persons and articles hired on contract, expenditures by the
commissary, quartermaster, and prison funds, all benefited Elmirans. Farms,
lumber yards, flourmills, meat markets, hardware shops, stationary and drag
stores had to accelerate business to meet military demands. "The
merchants are busy morning through night" noticed a reporter for the
Advertiser during the prison's hey day, "all kinds of business seem to
be in a flourishing condition."(52) Furthermore, job growth was not
restricted to those filed on contractual records or paid by the quartermaster,
commissary or prison funds. For example, an omnibus driver was employed by
the Brainard to chauffeur officers, produce vendors, theaters, restaurants,
saloons, and less moral establishments overindulged off duty prison keepers
with various forms of entertainment, food, and drink.(53)

Perhaps
one of the greatest forms of entertainment connected with Elmira Prison was
two observation towers built alongside the stockade. There had been little
opportunity, before some individuals became overly opportunistic, for
citizens to see the Rebels in prison. Military regulations kept most people
outside the wooden barricade, while small openings, either between slats or
through knotholes, only offered a limited view. To the dismay of captives,
people were being charged ten to fifteen cents a head to climb up the
observatories and view them.(54) The Daily Advertiser reported an observatory
was "often crowded with sightseers and must prove a paying
institution." About a month later, the paper assessed, the "two observatories
... in operation ... both are doing a rushing. business."(55) Wooden
stands soon popped up beside the towers peddling food and drink that included
everything from cakes, peanuts, and crackers, to lemonade, beer, and
liquor.(56)

Southern
prisoners were less enthusiastic in having money made at their expense. A
Tennessee sergeant, G. W. D. Porter, remembered how "hundreds would
crowd daily to get a view of the prisoners--many to gloat, perhaps, on their
sufferings."(57) Virginian James Huffman blamed the Northern press for
sending "a constant stream of people winding their way to the top of
these observatories to get a glimpse of the Rebs, as they supposed us to be
some kind of curious, monkey-shaped animals."(58) Another Virginian, Anthony
Keiley, was "surprised that Barnum has not taken the prisoners off the
hands of Abe, divided them in companies, and carried them in caravans through
the country ... turning an honest penny by the show. ... Patriotism is
spelled with a `y' at the end of the first syllable up here."(59)
Indeed, the commercialization of the prison was taken to a new level with the
observatories, bringing more visitors into the city. However, financial
opportunities also extended outside of the Chemung Valley.

Although
canals had been giving way to railroads for some time in the Valley, the
inland waterways were revitalized during the Civil War. Delivering fuel to
the depot, particularly coal, kept towpaths crowded. Elmira's main connection
to Pennsylvania mines, its supply source, was along the Junction Canal, which
connected the Chemung Canal to the Susquehanna systems. The Junction had been
gradually increasing in cargo throughout the war. In 1861, tonnage was
97,331, in 1862, 126,395, and in 1863, 153,059. The year the prison was
established, cargo on the Junction, more than half Anthracite coal, was
reaching its highest mark.(60) In November, the Daily Advertiser reported
"Coal is arriving here in large quantities by the Junction Canal, in
anticipation of the close of navigation. The gross amount will much exceed
the previous seasons."(61) By the end of 1864, 170,849 tons, primarily
coal, were transported from Pennsylvania to Elmira. The percentage of
anthracite about doubled from 1861 to 1864. March floods in 1865 prevented
the canal from ever matching these figures; no matter to J. D. Baldwin, since
he sold the majority of his coal, worth about $ 10,000, to the prison before
the heavy rains fell.(62)

Elmira
was in fact a transportation nexus because of its rail lines, the primary
factor that made it a military depot. The Erie and Northern Central
intersected at Elmira, and reaped large earnings from the army for their high
transportation rates. Not only did they move goods in and out, but
transporting human freight was a seemingly unending endeavor, with streams of
soldiers coming or leaving the city. Besides taking soldiers to and from the
battlefields, prisoners and guards were sent to Elmira from various places
and when they were released, the government again paid their way. Assistant
Quartermaster Suydam was in charge of contracting use of the railroads, and
despite poor service on the Northern Central and a dreadful mishap on the
Erie, the military had no choice but to continue using them at a costly
price. For example, from July 1864, when the prison was inaugurated to the
end of July 1865, about the time it was closed, the military incurred $
115,000 in charges from the Erie Railroad Company alone.(63)

Quartermaster
Elwell never had the luxury of having that type of cash on hand, so the Erie
would have to wait at least a year before the government paid its bills.(64)
Some local contractors were less patient. In March 1865, a number of
businessmen whose "entire capital is now in the hands of the U.S.
Government for lumber, coal, and hardware furnished upon contract on Q.M.
orders" were becoming nervous by the delay in receiving payments.(65)
The lumber firm of Hatch and Partridge represented the group and explained
their dilemma to Quartermaster General Meigs; "We do not know whether
the proper regulations have been made on you or the U.S. Treasury for money
to pay this indebtedness but we are persuaded there is incompetency somewhere
in the Q.M. Department at this post." Although they had "no special
charge to make with Q.M. Elwell--We are personally acquainted and highly
esteem him as a man and a Christian. But so long as we are satisfied that the
government has the money wherewith to pay we can but feel that there is great
money somewhere, in keeping the credits of the government here."(66)
Also in March, Commissary Sappington was writing Subsistence Commissary Eaton
that he had not received cash since December 1864: "The Creditors of the
U.S. are very urgent for their money and it would give me great pleasure to satisfy
them if the Treasurer could forward the funds."(67)

Prison
Commissary Hoffman was having his own funding problems by the spring of 1865.
Elmira Prison was starting to take up even more money from the prison fund,
although he had hoped to save as much as possible as the war ended. January
and February coupled for an expenditure under $20,000, but in March, a
combination of factors led to a disbursement Hoffman never anticipated. Bills
from building winter barracks were still being paid off, and that, compounded
by a devastating flood that took place in the middle of the month, made for
large expenditures. Much of the prison and guard camps had to be rebuilt or
cleaned up, resulting in costs of $73,334.16. No prison fund came close to
equaling this figure in any month of the Civil War. For that matter, its
value might be better appreciated by the fact that March funds at Elmira were
equal to that for most Union prisons during the year and a few throughout
their entire history; including Johnson's Island in Ohio, Camp Morton in
Indiana, and Gratiot Street Prison in Missouri, all three founded in 1862.
Moreover, if Commissary Hoffman tallied the final operational costs from
prison funding, the prisons at Alton, Illinois; Louisville, Kentucky;
Wheeling, West Virginia; Ship Island, Mississippi; Harts Island, New York;
and Forts McHenry in Baltimore Warren in Boston, and Lafayette, in New York,
he still would not have enough money for Elmira Prison in the month of
March.(68)

Unfortunately
for Elmira, spending on the prison camp would soon stop. At the end of the
month, General Orders No. 77 was issued by the War Department. Elmira
newspapers headlined "Important Order--The Reduction of Expenses by the
War Department ... every possible reduction of military expenses, in view of
the conclusion of hostilities, will be made immediately."(69) The act
officially prepared citizens for the closing of the rendezvous and the
suspension of army activities in Elmira. Army purchases were only to be
"what is absolutely necessary in view of the immediate reduction of the
forces in the field and in garrison."(70) Also, the commissary and
quartermaster departments were not only to reduce spending, but the number
employees as well. Only those who were "required for closing the business
of their respective departments," would remain.(71)

It
did not take long for Elmira's economy to be affected by the bad news.
Although newspapers assured "a year will elapse before the complete
abandonment of this military post," the potential of losing an immense
money-generating enterprise was not well received. Just the prior fall, the
Advertiser bragged, "The high price of gold does not seem to affect the
pockets of the consumer. The confidence in the stability of the nation is so
great that no hesitancy or anxiety actuates the business transactions or
pecuniary dealings of trade."(72) At the end of winter, the paper
realized the war "gave a stimulus to this place, and has caused its
growth to increase doubly in material acquirements, and has insured a permanent
and steady advance from its previous state, even should the war end
today."(73) "Today" was a reality in the spring of 1865, but
gold plummeted and buying slackened, while government employees began to be
laid off. "The prices of provisions are gradually tending downwards in
our market," reported the Advertiser in May, "Prices cannot keep up
with the fall of gold and the prospect of the breaking up of the
rendezvous."(74)

Downsizing
at the depot continued. Clerks, laborers, carpenters, teamsters, cooks,
messengers, stewards, and other military workers were let go. On May 10, it
was reported "There are now about two clerks at headquarters who are
enlisted men ... the thinning out, within a few days, has been quite
remarkable."(75) Elmirans felt the economic pinch when leases were not
renewed, quartermaster supplies not purchased, and commissary contracts
phased out. The dismantling of the "stockade city" and its
"guard camp suburb" led a reporter for the Advertiser to write;
"Tearing Down--Already the Saloon buildings along the street, this side
of Barracks No. 3, are in the process of demolition, or tom down. They have
filled their day and must now give way to the new order of things."(76)
Also in July, articles purchased by the prison fund dramatically dropped.(77)
In August, the local press again verified the changing composition of the
city; "There is quite a thinning out constantly going on among the
military men at this post. Reductions are gradually taking place, that will
restore us in a few months to our former civilian, minus the military
aspect."(78)

Gradual
reductions had also been going on at the prison. In April, $28,261.71 was
expended on the pen, in May, $20,55 1.08, June, $4,379. 19, July, $2,863.64,
and August, a mere $2,714.26. In September and October, the sale of prison
camp material continued. Incidentally, the auctioneer, W. Sheridan, was still
being paid by the government, $150 for his sale of government property.(79)
In November, the War Department was informed "all the land heretofore
occupied as barracks No. 3 is no longer required. The following described
land, being part of several leases with Messrs. Foster can be
surrendered."(80) The land was returned to the Foster family after all
the government property was sold in December, which totaled $2,824.10. The
amount of money left over in the prison fund and returned was $58,151.54.(81)

War
had greatly affected Elmira, which was a changed place compared to five years
prior. Soon after the conflict ended and outstanding claims settled, the
economy was also altered for the better. Debts were lessened between
individuals and credits shortened, but easily secured, while there was an
advancement in prompt payments. Pauperism was reduced in some sections of the
city, however, there was a rise in crime. The monthly price of farm labor
before 1861 was $12 to $15, rose to $24 in 1864, and $26 by war's end. Even
with the drought of 1864, farmland rose in value.(82) One observer noted the
"camps required large amounts of farm produce, meat, vegetables and wood
for fuel.... Along West Water Street might be seen great wood-piles extending
for nearly a quarter mile."(83) Food contractors, supposed to be selling
their goods to the military at the lowest bid, never lost much. The market
price of flour was $9 to $10 per barrel and beef sold as low as 10 [cts.] a
pound, both figures commensurable to what the military was paying.(84)
Consequently, one should not be surprised at Commissary Sappington's
assessment after the war: "Citizens were at all times willing and
anxious to furnish anything that was required at reasonable prices, and wait
the pleasure of the government to pay them, in fact the resources of the
country and the faith of the People seemed during this war to be
inexhaustable."(85)

Census
enumerators help in understanding how much the Elmira economy was affected by
the military. One agent wrote that the influence of war made Elmira
"Generally more prosperous and contented."(86) Another noticed
Elmirans had "A great desire to become quickly Rich out of the
government by fat contracts."(87) Census Judge Edwin Munson commented on
the changing financial and social conditions in the ward containing the
stockade and surrounding guard camp. There was "an increasing tendency
to extravagance and display. The large government expenditures at this post
with the large number of officials and troops stationed here have doubtless
greatly fostered this tendency at this point. The same causes have led to a
largely increased consumption of intoxicants," something more than a few
prison guards could appreciate.(88)

Elmira
Prison led all Union Prisons in prison funding in 1865, and not one camp came
close to matching its maintenance fee of $165,225. Not only was it the first
time that a prison camp broke six figures in a single year, but Elmira went
well beyond it. Comparatively, Elmira Prison doubled, tripled, and more than
quadrupled many of the stockades operating in 1865. Camp Douglas, came
closest, spending $93,995 that year. Then came Camp Chase, with $52,134 in
expenses, followed by Point Lookout, $42,436, and finally, Fort Delaware with
$30,964. In fact, of the twenty-seven camps under Prison Commissary Hoffman's
control in 1865, $489,876.29 was spent, meaning about one-third went to
Elmira.(89)

All
told, $202,784 was spent on Elmira Prison during its existence, and some
12,147 prisoners passed through its gates. No prison cost as much from July
1864 to the following year. Commissary Hoffman's first prison, on Johnson's
Island, Ohio, which he hoped would be the only one required for the war,
registered $57,784.69 for its 7,627 captives, who were mostly officers. In
central Ohio, a camp near Columbus, converted from training facilities,
housed 16,335 men through its three-year term as a prison, having a total of
$128,872.80 spent on it. Camp Morton, a similar prison converted from an
instruction base in 1862 on the state fairgrounds a mile and a half from
downtown Indianapolis, received 12,082 Confederates, on whom $43,565.41 was
expended. The prison in Alton, Illinois, a former state penitentiary used by
the War Department for 9,330 Southerners since 1862 had spent $33,538.09 by
the end of the war. Gratiot Street Prison in St. Louis, Missouri, a medical
college before it was converted a prison early in the war, never held more
than a thousand prisoners, but expended $19,115.93 from 1862. Fort Delaware,
built earlier in the century--on an island, to protect Philadelphia--was
converted into a prison for Confederates in 1862. It held 25,275 prisoners
throughout its existence and incurred $122,934.11 in bills. Another prison
located on a river was Rock Island in the Mississippi, bordering Illinois and
Iowa. It was established at the end of 1863, confined 11,458, and had
$96,427.91 in expenditures by the end of the war.(90)

Only
two stockades compared to the spending at Elmira from prison funding. Point
Lookout, where 42,762 inmates were held for its three year history expended
$162,416.83. Camp Douglas, established in January 1862, just four miles from
center city Chicago, spent more than Elmira. However, its spending began in
January of 1862 and lasted until the end of the war, a four year existence
adding up to $208,230.91 spent on the 26,060 men that it received. Both its
prison population and time frame more than doubled Elmira. A closer look
finds that the Chicago prison expended $159,543.25 during Elmira's existence,
while Elmira itself spent over $200,000. Moreover, the impact each had on the
local population would be hard to compare. Camp Douglas was located in the
main market of the Midwest, where all forms of industry were firmly
entrenched. Its population was over 109,000 at the beginning of war, while
Elmira's, was not even a tenth of that.(91)

These
figures indicate no other prison camp community had been impacted to the
degree Elmira was by the end of the war. It helped support the local economy
and grew from it, adding stability during a sluggish time. This did not
matter to some locals. More than a few might wonder if it were worth all the
trouble for posterity's sake. Besides leading all Union stockades in
expenditures for the year of its existence, Elmira also led Northern camps in
another statistic. It had the highest death rate of any in the North, and
Elmirans long lived with the stigma that their Civil War prison was
considered the worst of its kind.

Notes:

(1)
Clay w. Holmes, The Elmira Prison Camp: A History of the Military at Elmira,
N. E, July 6, 1864, to July 10, 1865 (New York: The Knickerbocker Press,
1912), 140-48.

(27)
Marcus B. Toney, The Privations of a Private (Nashville, Tenn.: Publishing
House of the M. E. Church, South, Smith & Lamar, Agents, 1907), 98. The
Tennessean added, "We had the same kind of scandal in the corned beef
business during the Spanish-American War; we would nowadays call them
grafters."

(35)
It might take as many as 12 grosses of matches, two grosses of lamp wicks,
and from 250 to more than 500 gallons of kerosene oil to keep the prison
illuminated for a month. Cook & Covell charged 75[cnts.] a gallon for the
oil. "List of Quartermaster Stores at Elmira, NY," Nov. 1864, Jan.,
Feb., Apr. 1865, entry 11, RG 249; "Statement of Prison Funds,"
Mar. 31, Apr. 29, 1865.

(36)
"List of Quartermaster Stores," Jan. 1865; "Statement of
Prison Funds," Jan. 31, Mar. 31, 1865. Besides building material,
Russell & French charged from $2.25 to $3.50 a day for their work as
masons. The cost per barrel of lime was $1.75, and the camp could average
from 30 to 60 barrels a month for disinfecting privies. Cook & Covell
also supplied lime. "List of Quartermaster Stores," Nov. 1864,
Jan., Feb., Apr. 1865.

(38)
In February 1865, George McGrath supplied the hospital with 5,800 pounds of
hay for $87, in March, 13,900 for $208.50, and in April, 8,112 for $109.51.
R. Simmons provided 4, 150 pounds for $51.87. From March through May, 1865,
D. D. Reynolds & Co., J. G. Widing, George McGrath, W. T. Post, and J. A.
Sly, all furnished straw for prisoners, for a total of around $200.
"Statement of Prison Funds," Feb. 28, Mar. 31, Apr. 11, 30, 1865;
"Abstract of Disbursements," Mar.-May, 1865.

(39)
The costly medicines included opium, ammonia, mustard, acetic acid, chalk,
morphine, quinine, and juniper berries, which were purchased by the prison
fund. John K. Perry & Son also sold provisions, and in September 1864,
Elmira prison chief Eugene F. Sanger approved an expenditure for $63.15 from
his store. By February 1865, Cook & Covell was even selling $92 in drugs
to the pen. From February through April, Ingraham & Robinson charged
nearly $500 in medicine for the prison hospital."Statement of Prison
Funds," Sept. 13, 1864, Feb. 20, 28, 1865, Mar. 20, Apr. 8, 20.

(43)
R.G. 249, entry 11, box 142, "Receipt of Rolls of Employees paid by
Prison Fund," 1865; Toney, Privations, 109. Palmer and Knowl were
responsible for repairing the hearse. In January, March, and April 1865, they
rendered their services, which cost $24.25. Lumber for the construction of
coffins would be more expensive, 35[cnts.] for every ten feet. In January
1865, 18,000 feet of lumber was required; in February, 24,000 feet; and in
April 10,000 feet of lumber was "Used in the construction of coffins for
deceased prisoners." In March, when deaths were highest, Spaulding &
Haskell was paid $770 for supplying 22,000 feet of "coffin lumber,"
and Hatch & Partridge provided 10,000 feet for $350 so inmates could be
properly buried. "List of Quartermaster Stores," Jan., Feb., Apr.
1865; "Statement of Prison Funds," Jan. 31, Mar. 31, Apr. 30, 1865.

(49)
Ibid., 131. Census records stated Jones was a mulatto, age forty-seven, had a
framed house estimated at $2,000, and was a voter and an owner of land. New
York Census Records, 1865, Ward 1, John W. Jones. Clay Holmes wrote after
retirement Jones "lived quietly on his little farm, working if he liked,
spending much time in doing little acts of kindness to others." Ibid.,
150.

(71)
It was wishful thinking for the paper to speculate that the government might
make the military depot "a permanent affair." Ibid.

(72)
Daily Advertiser, Nov. 16, 1864.

(73)
Ibid., Feb. 23, 1865.

(74)
Ibid., May 10, 1865.

(75)
Ibid. Some workers at the prison were fortunate to work throughout May, such
as George Mathews, Lochmon May, and Horace Little, clerks earning $100 a
month; Harrison Hart, Darwin Rudd, Henry Osborn, and Robert Even, all clerks
except the latter, each earned 40 [cts.] daily. Sexton John Jones and hearse
driver John Donohoe would also remain on the payroll. "Receipt
Roll," Apr.-May 1865, entry 11, RG 249,

(76)
Daily Advertiser, July 14, 1865.

(77)
"Abstract of Articles," entry 11, RG 249, July 1865. Only four
local businesses were on the July account, Hall Brothers, Spaulding & Haskell,
Cook & Covell, and Loremore Brothers, culminating in a bill of $724.80.

(90)
"Expenditures"; The Medical and Surgical History of the War of the
Rebellion, part 2, vol. 5: Medical History (Washington, D.C.: Government
Printing Office, 1879), 50-63; Holland Thompson, ed., The Photographic
History of the Civil War, vol. 8; Prisons and Hospitals (New York: The Review
of Reviews Co., 1911), 44, 54, 56, 69.